


The Maple Dryad and the Oak Lad

by QueenOfPlotTwists



Series: Yu-Gi-Oh June 2020 Prompts [26]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: All forests are Enchanted, Erotica, Forest Sex, Forest Spirits, Forests, Implied Darkshipping, Librashipping, Nymphs & Dryads, Yu-Gi-Oh June Prompt Challenge 2020, non-graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25000297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfPlotTwists/pseuds/QueenOfPlotTwists
Summary: Once more the World is Turning. The Summer has faded to Autumn and soon the Wildfire Queen will hep the trees finish their birthing and the Frost King will lead the Wild Hunt across the earth...But all that matters to the Maple Dryad (Yugi) and the Oak Lad (Marik) is each other and the way they look at each other with their emerald and lavender eyes...Faery erotica! Just so you know (see above warnings)Yu-Gi-Oh June Prompt Challenge 2020Week 4: Air/Day 29: Autumn
Relationships: Marik Ishtar/Mutou Yuugi
Series: Yu-Gi-Oh June 2020 Prompts [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770298
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	The Maple Dryad and the Oak Lad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zephyrdragon362](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephyrdragon362/gifts).



> since i woke up at 11 my goal was to get this up by 1 and i am SO proud of myself that I did!   
> This was not my original idea for this prompt, in fact I spent much of yesterday working on a short story ideas that zephyrdragon362's kitsume trilogy inspired me to finish (this one is for you girl! nor sure how you feel about librashipping but I wanted to give you something as a thank you that wouldn't get taken down when I revamped it XD)
> 
> Sadly i knew i wasn't going to finish it, so this morning when i woke up, realized I don't have to actually go INTO work until tomorrow, and in that place between dreaming and wakefulness where I found myself lucid dreaming, this was the first idea that popped into my head...so I ran with it and I did not stop and i absolutely LOVE how it came out!
> 
> This was inspired by Erutan's The Willow Maid (which i always wanted to write a short story inspired by, but never gt the drive to even with this challenge--now i know why) and Her song Winter Moon (I recommend both while reading this, especially Winter Moon! both can be found on youtube!)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Yu-Gi-Oh June Prompt Challenge 2020
> 
> Week 4: Air/Day 29: Autumn

The Maple dryad found his back pressed against the smooth bark of his own tree. Moaning, as the strong oaken hands of his lover hiked up his thigh, the other on his hip, his legs spread wide for all the world to see. Emerald eyes smiled up into a face the bitter brown of oaken leaves, long, slender, extra jointed-fingers wove through the spiked mane of hair soft and pale yellow as catkins and looked into lavender eyes the color of twilight.

And kissed him.

Kissed him with a wildness and a love that only a creature of the forest could understand.

The Oak lad kissed him back: one hand still squeezing the soft, maplely thigh, the other smoothing up his hip, over the pale green-gauze shift sewn with maple seeds. Long, spindly fingers teased the soft skin of his hip and side like oak branches dancing in the wind. Found their way to the soft cheek as pale and plump as apple blossoms, wound up and wove themselves into soft fiery hair, the crimson and gold of maple leaves and autumn. Their star-shaped spikes unique to the maple spirit alone, the spirit he loved. The spirit whose lithe, willowy frame as delicate and subtle as the curve of a flower, but will and spirit as strong and unending as an ancient maple in a strong wind, was his and his alone.

Marik pulled his maple spirit into strong, oaken arms and pressed them both against the maple. Yugi’s own tree welcoming their weight and lowering the gold and red stars of her own laden boughs to shelter them from the prying eyes of the sun.

They cared not if he saw, or if anyone did: there was no privacy in the forest, in the wood, only wildness and magic and the roving maroon-maple eyes of the Fairy Queen of the Wild Wood who stole moisture from the earth and set the forest ablaze in summer and then mixed the nutrient rich ash with the soils and coaxed the autumn flowers to bloom and the trees to shed their beautiful leaves for her autumn gown and helped them as their birthed the next generation, their boughs heavy with fruits and berries and seeds. The Mother who loved them both. Who planted their trees so close together in hopes they would find the other. For it is a lonely life, as a dryad whose life was bound to the bark, and leaves and seeds of their tree.

And then there was the Great Prince of the Forest, the Lord of Frost and Rain and the King of Winter who put the earth to sleep, blanketed them all in snow and led the pines in an ancient dance to celebrate the Yule and the Darkness and the light. Who frosted the rivers and the streams who never liked to go to bed on time, and then led the Wild Hunt all throughout the harvest stealing pumpkins and apple and the last of winters berries and unattended children until the bloodlust of the world was sated in red equivalency so that all knew the spiral of black antlers like frost-bitten branches from his head, tiny green buds of new spring and the full white blooms of the Hawthorn speaking of his duel nature, and his long hair, as white and wild and untamable as a winter’s storm. And once it was over he kissed the trees and awakened their buds and pulled back the winter blankets, coaxing awake the grass and the flowers from their long winter’s nap.

The Wildfire Queen of the Summer and Autumn and Darkness had planted their seeds and nursed them on a banquet of ashes. The Frost King of Winter and Spring and Light sang them songs on the winter wind and tucked them blankets of ice and snow and then woke their saplings in spring. They introduces them when their trees were big enough for them to leave and again when they were old enough to venture beyond their own branches. The Oak growing tall and straight and proud with his spiny leaves and thick acorns and spray of golden catkins, Marik with his bitter brown skin, his firm muscles, lavender eyes like twilights and strong oaken hands, the Maple strong and slender, her arms spread wide like she was perpetually dancing, throwing back the great green stars of her hair, and smooth silvery gray bark, and her winged seeds like tiny green helicopters, Yugi sleek and slender and strong as he danced through her boughs with his maple-leaf star hair the scarlety-maroon and golden color of maple leaves in autumn and eyes and emerald sheen like her bountiful leaves in summer, singing with a voice like the wind rustling through her leaves.

Always the Oak bowed over the Maple, always Marik was lounging on his bows, watching the green-eyes fairy as he danced in a shower of golden stars and pale green seeds and singing to the squirrels and rabbits and deep and wolves and bobcats who sought relief from the heat beneath his bows. Marik made quite a friend of the Squirrel who’s made a hollow of his home: it was a mutual exchange: Marik gave him the best of his acorns, and the Squirrel took the rest miles and miles away and buried them so the next generation of forest would grow strong and proud.

No one was surprised when they fell in love. When they would sneak away from their tree beds, steal away like wolves prowling in the night, sleek and clever as foxes to dance the dance the Great Winter Pint dances and sing the Autumn song and roll in the grassy meadows with the rabbits and feast on the clovers. The huddled together protecting their trees from the wild fire that ravaged the ivy and the undergrowth choking their grassy home and then helped their Wildfire Queen mother, mix them into the soil in time for their Father the Frost King to bring the wet snow and the spring rain, or huddled together through the raging thunderstorms, soothed their trees and picked up their fallen branches.

How many times had they’d been seen and found together. How many times had Marik had this precious, beautiful creature with hair like maple fire and eyes and emerald sheen and skin as soft and pink and flushed as apple blossoms in his arms. How many times had Yugi kissed him in the meadows or while they splashed in the stream or balanced on the branches of their magnificent trees. How many times had Yugi found himself beneath those strong oaken arms with Marik on top of him, filling him with the evidence of his love? How many times had Marik found himself on his back with his little one on top of him consuming him with a warmth that quenched his darkest and most primal of desires with a heat that could rival the summer and outlast the sun? How many times had they found themselves together, dancing in the twilight, rays of light in the moon dance, and then chased each other through the trees only to pounce and roll in the grass.

Never did the hide their love. Never did they feel worried or stressed or ashamed, for even if all the eyes of the forest were upon them, there’s was the only ones worthy of being cared for. The King and Queen were far worse anyway.

And after all, all things of fae importance were done in the open air: exposed to the elements and free of restrictions and customs and expectations.

They broke to kiss to fall against the willow once more. Marik’s warm mouth on Yugi’s breast, Yugi’s hand in his hair, the other pinned at his side. Marik’s hand sliding up and down his side, Yugi’s thigh tightening around his hip. Marik’s oaken fingers teasing his hip, spidering over the junction between his pelvis and his thigh, slipping beneath the hem of his green-gauze shift, teasing the rim of muscles where he longed to be touch and teased and held the most. Yugi moaning as those fingers slipped unabashedly inside of him: pushed and prodded, and thrust and curled, and stroke until Yugi was a shaking, shuddering wanton mess beneath him like a she-wolf in heat, all hot and demanding, all quaking arms and quivering thighs.

Until his emerald eyes were glistening with half-lidded desire and his hand was wrenching at his catkin girl’s and the other tearing at the beaten leather breeches the other wore and nothing else. Until his hand was no longer tearing at his hair but clawing and grabbing at the strong, firm chest of bitter brown skin, over groves and ridges of muscles strong and rough as oak barn. Until Marik had snatched both his hands and pinned them above his head with a single arm. Until he’d pinned Yugi’s led to the bark with the other and clamped his strong hand about the thigh wrapped around his waist. Until his now freed girth, swollen with the evidence of his desire was pressed, hard and heavy and waiting against Yugi’s belly, teasing the entrance to his most sacred place, and until Yugi was a pleading wanton mess and all but wilting to have the other inside of him.

And when that warm, thick girth found its way inside him, it was a pleasure and a heat that a force that left Yugi screaming. The maple dryad thrust and bucked his hips, but Marik’s grip was as strong and ancient as his tree and purposely kept their rhythm slow and deliberate, drunk on the warmth and the heat that was Yugi, and his skin, warm like leaves heated by the summer sun. Heat like the summer sun consumed him and tightened around him and he wanted nothing more than to take root and stay there forever, but Yugi was so wet, and willing and looked so cute as he pleaded with those big green eyes and those round cheeks as flushed and pink as apple blossoms.

Marik kissed him then. Yugi kissed him back devoured those sour lips and the taste of all that was good and wild about the forest. Marik released his hands and Yugi’s arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closed. Marik’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and his waist. His hips arched, thrust, Yugi, rolled, dropped. The maple’s bark their bed s they moved and arched and thrusts unhurriedly against each other, taking all the other had to give them and giving just as much in return for there’s was bliss no one else would ever know.

When their wildness and their frenzy over came them and they lost themselves to their passion, Marik’s thrust harder, faster, wilder, and Yugi’s own quaking and quivering and lost to the desire that was his lover’s pleasure. His thighs quaking and unable to hold him up, Marik’s leg’s straining under the weight of their love. They collapsed them wrapped in the other’s arms to the soft ground and found their bed in the grove of the ancient maple’s bark and roots.

Their lovemaking continued, uninterrupted and undisturbed: emerald eyes and twilight orbs and all the cries of their love until at last the pleasure became too great and starbursts exploded behind their eyes: hot as summer but white as winter.

They came together and the rush was like sudden flooding of the river on a hot day, sweeping their feet out from under them and carrying them away, but the wet warmth was like liquid fire, coating Marik’s chest and branding Yugi’ inside with the evidence of their love. With the scent of maple leaves and acorns and something else that was uniquely them marking them as the other’s and making it clear to all the forest and all the world whom they belong to, mind, body, heart and soul.

They stayed like that for hours, or it could’ve been days, or merely moments, it was so hard to tell with the leaves changing colors all around them. Basking in the warmth of the other’s glow: bitter brown skin and pale brown with a green sheen like wood with the bark stripped back, glowing and glittering in the dabbled sunbeams bathing them between the gaps in the canopy. They kissed, rubbed noses against cheeks, giggled and cuddled, moaned as they pulled apart from each other, and then began to kiss again. Until they fell asleep like that in the maple’s roots upon a bed of moss and fallen leaves, still intertwined as lovers are, still enwrapped in the other’s arms like the roots of two trees that had chosen to grow together. The Maples brushed her long arms around them both. The Oak, ever the patient, loving giant, stretched his long arms and hunched his back to wrap around her.

And when the Wild Fire Queen of Summer and Autumn and Darkness came to once more gather the fallen leaves and help the trees through the birthing of their fruits and berries, a smile graced his deep maroon eyes: he kissed his little maple’s cheeks and brushed back his little oak’s catkin curls and told both the Maple and the Oak to guard them well and as a reward he command the wind to gather their acorns and their winged seeds and gathered them to his own breast with the promise to personally plant them in the sacred groove and brushed away their weeping biter brown and golden tears of gratitude.

When the Queen finished his work and the leaf-bare stripped the land, and the harvest was complete and the darkness of the All Hallow’s Eve heralded in the Samhain, the Frost King led the wild hunt through the woods, bringing with him the death and the savagery and the hunters and the sleep both eternal and temporary for Nature and the Earth always gives back what she takes and so do her children. But her stops when he comes to the two trees already asleep.

Dismounts his hose, his crown of black branches, glowing with green spring buds like tiny gems and the bright white hawthorn blossoms like fallen stars. He sees the two there, the Maple Dryad and the Oak lad whose seeds his wife planted, and whom he nurtured all throughout childhood. He bends down smiling, brushes back a curtain of wild blizzard white hair, scattering raindrops that freeze into snowflakes, and conjures a blanket of snow and tucks them in tight, tells the beasts: the wolves who are his hounds, the deer who are his heard, the fox who is his spy and his wife’s most beloved companion. to keep them safe and offers them the first flesh of the winter as their payment. The wolves accept in gratitude though assure him they would so such for free.

Then he mounts his stead and once more leads the Hunt.

Through the long winter the Trees and the Beasts keep their promise, watching and smiling as the two sleep through the long winter and eager to reunite with them in spring, perhaps even their will be knew life as well, growing in the Maple’s womb sired by the Oak Lad who is his lover.

They do not know. The world is still only Turning, beginning its transcendence from Autumn and into Winter, from Darkness and into Light, from Death and Sleep and into Life and Dreaming.

We’ll just have to wait and see.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone wanna guess who the WildFire Queen and the Frost King are, though its totally obvious ;)
> 
> Also in several of the manga covers, including the R arc, Yugi and Atem are both depicted with very bright, emerald green eyes, so technically, Yugi's eye color is cannon ;)
> 
> I love plants and trees and flowers, I love oaks, and willows and hawthorns and blackthorns and dog woods but if i truly had to pick one, my favorite tree is without out a doubt the Maple: I love the maple, I've grown up with them and when we moved i was thrilled that we had one that was climbable in our yard (I'm 30 and still climb trees deal with it! XD)   
> But most of all i love their beautiful star-shaped leaves that turn scarlet, maroon or gold in the autumn...
> 
> And have you never noticed how Yugi's hair is shaped like a maple leaf? look it up if you don't believe me XD
> 
> This concept was also inspired by my own views of the season in response to nature and the natural turning of the world: like for example, has no one ever wondered why we start winter and summer on the solstices and summer as fir and light winter as water and darkness when in actuality Yule was the longest day of the year and thus the return of the light and summer while the longest day celebrated the return of the darkness, and science proves that THIS is when the days get longer and shorter?  
> I have and it made me curious, as to also why in the ancient calendar back when our ancestors had to grow and hunt their food and lived in villages and long before their were cities the celebrated May Day as the first day of summer and Halloween known as Samhain (and pronounced Sah-ween) was the first day of winter and the end of the year (the last day of the harvest) it made me think and if any of you remember my Let me be your wings fic on Fanfiction, it's not the first time i played with the concepts of pairing Summer and Autumn and Spring and Winter...
> 
> Fairies and especially forest spirits are creatures of the woods and the wild and thus they are creatures of balance in nature and the universe: the gods of the woods and seasons are creatures of both life and death, rejuvenation and destruction: the summer is the season of water and rain where all the moisture is sucked into the air by the eat causing forest fires that burn away the undergrowth and return nutrient rich soil to the earth so the trees and wildflowers can bloom bountifully in autumn when their seeds and fruits feed us all and spread their seeds. Winter is the season of sleep and yes, of death, but death as a sleep where the world is resting and rejuvenating: another important part of Yule was that the work was done so now was the time to rest and relax through the long winter and tell stories: it was the equivalent of summer vacation for all--unlike today where we're expected to have the same self all year, and people wonder why they're more tired and stressed in winter....  
> and after the cold winds of winter when the snow melts and restores water to the earth, the spring awakens the world and the flowers and all the fairies are ready to party and make mischief (seriously a LOT of trouble makers wake up in spring time, according to my research which was VERY eye opening and explains so much on a hiking trip i look in spring where i SWEAR a leshi was watching me, thank goodness i had my little hound with me...
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the info dump but I really wanted to share that concept and hope it was portrayed well in this fic!
> 
> Thanks so much! one more prompt to go!


End file.
